


Metal and Dust

by thealphadog



Category: Avengers: Infinity War - Fandom, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Death, Hurt, I'm sorry for this, I'm still not OK, Multi, Post- Avengers: Infinity War, Spoilers, This movie killed me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-27
Updated: 2018-11-11
Packaged: 2019-04-28 19:41:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14456373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thealphadog/pseuds/thealphadog
Summary: The Avengers know damage and destruction like the back of their hands-But it's entirely different this time.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> INFINITY WAR SPOILERS.
> 
> I'm only writing this because I didn't stop crying for 12 hours after seeing Infinity War. And because this movie has changed me in ways that I will never completely understand.
> 
> I'm sorry. 
> 
> Oh, and also-
> 
> Fuck you, Marvel. 
> 
> PS: Please don't read this if you haven't seen the movie. This contains, like, the biggest spoilers you could imagine. So just, don't read it. Even if you've seen the movie don't read it. I'm just really depressed and creatively channeling it. I'm sorry, again.

“Mr. Stark—“ Peter shuffled forward, his limbs wrapped tightly around his torso. “I don’t feel so good.”

 

Tony’s eyes widened as Mantis disappeared without a trace behind the kid, immediately followed by Drax. The two of them cascaded into ash, and settled silently on the ground. Stark didn’t even have to time to make sure Quill was OK—

 

Because the kid had _bombarded_ right into him, wrapping his arms around his mentor’s neck.

 

Tony’s mind went into overdrive.

 

The kid was shaking like an earthquake, his body feeling so fragile beneath his suit.

 

And Stark almost wanted to shut off his brain— because it was _yelling_ at him. It was yelling louder than anything Tony had ever heard— and it was saying that _the kid was next._

 

It was saying that he was going to die, just like Mantis, just like Drax;

 

And now Quill— who just dispersed into small fragments, his eyes rolling back into his head.

 

Peter spotted Starlord, and his eyes widened, his tears overflowing immediately. Tony gripped the kid even more, pushing his eye line away from what was left of Quill.

 

This—

 

_Couldn’t be happening._

 

The kid’s breath hitched in his throat.

 

“ _I don’t want to go_ —,”

 

Tony clutched Peter so tightly, the kid’s small body starting to disintegrate in his grasp. He could feel him shaking, his heart beat dying. He could see his eyes as they welled, dropping disappearing tears onto the ground on Titan.

 

Tony laid the kid to the floor as best he could, shushing him in an attempt to reassure him that everything was fine, that he would be OK.

 

“Tony—,”

 

Tony hadn’t said a word since the kid had approached him, claiming he was feeling sick. He hadn’t said a word even when the kid practically _collapsed_ into his arms. It was like all the breath in his body was gone, all the strength in his words had disappeared without a trace.

 

Stark traced Peter’s face, ignoring the rising dust that was literally the kid’s body dying.

 

Peter swallowed, his eyes full of something so deadly, so disgusting, so uncalled for—

 

He was _petrified._

 

Petrified— because he didn’t know why he couldn’t feel his body; because he didn’t know if he was living or dying anymore.

 

“Tony— _I’m sorry_ ,” Peter muttered, and Tony _needed_ to hold him close. He _needed_ to hug the kid—

 

But it was too late.

 

All Tony could do was watch as the kid’s body dissolved into ash, dust; nothing that Peter Parker truly was.

 

His legs disappeared first, and the dust crept up to his other limbs like a wildfire that couldn’t be put out. It took his hands, his chest, his neck.

 

And then it took his face, the kid’s eyes rolling into the back of his head—

 

And then he was gone.

 

Nothing remained apart from silence.

 

Aunt May; Ned; MJ; everyone who loved Peter in the world had no idea where he’d gone, had no idea if he was alright in this sudden invasion. They had no idea that he’d just turned to dust in Tony’s own arms. They had no idea that he’d fought better than any other sixteen year old in the whole galaxy; no idea that Tony’s heart had literally just broken in two, that his blood was spilling tenfold; not because of his stab wound; but because of the kid being gone.

 

_Gone._

 

Tony was alone, his face pressed to the floor, his tears falling on the dry Titan land, somehow hoping that this was all some kind of nightmare that he would wake up from any second now.

 

But he wasn’t waking up.

 

_And he never would._

 

-

 

Steve traced his hands over what remained of his oldest friend; his best friend.

 

He had no idea why this was happening, how the infinity stones, however powerful, could eradicate this many in so little time. And what was worse is that this wasn’t just happening in Wakanda—

 

It was happening _everywhere._

 

“Three quarters of the US population just turned to dust.” Rhodey stared at his display; it was all over the news.

 

“Not just the US—,” Banner said, still encased in the Hulkbuster armour. “The whole world. The whole _galaxy_.”

 

“Now Thanos decides to play hooky…” Steve muttered.

 

And for the first time since being back at the compound, his mind trailed to Tony. Stark was out there somewhere, in the deep vacuum of space— dead or alive, Steve didn’t know.

 

He hoped, _prayed_ , for the latter.

 

“Bruce, anything from—,”

 

“I’ve got nothing from Tony.” Bruce spluttered out, staring at Cap with sunken eyes. “Sorry.”

 

For all anyone knew, Tony could have been dead for a day already. It had been three years since Steve had spoken to Stark. Those days, despite being filled with a brand new landscape, a new hope that Bucky would finally be himself again, surrounded by the teammates he’d rescued from the Raft—

 

Not having that little flip phone ring had been one of the most difficult things for Steve to deal with over the years.

 

Wanda and Vision had set about having secret meetings. The last one had been in Glasgow; that was before the Black Order had found them both. Clint had immediately headed home to his family. Laura no doubt had forbade him from fighting this time round.

 

Natasha had found her own way to Steve. Tony wasn’t the only person he’d delivered a flip phone to.

 

“He followed Strange and Spider-Man onto the Black Order ship. He could be halfway across the galaxy by now.”

 

Rocket stirred, his paws still had traces of Groot on them. “You don’t think he could have bumped into my teammates, do you? We’ve all been fighting the same battle, here.”

 

Okoye clenched her jaw, standing up for the first time since T’Challa had disintegrated in front of her. “Come. I will try and help you find a radio signal from their ship inside Shuri’s lab.” Her breath hitched after that. Was Shuri _OK_? Was she _even alive?_

 

Who was living in the world right now? Nick Fury? Maria Hill? Thaddeus Ross?

 

Had they merely turned to dust as well?

 

Steve stared into space as Okoye and Rocket shuffled towards the disheveled Wakandan palace. Rocket was alone; his other teammates no where to be seen; his only teammate on this planet being reduced to ash.

 

Natasha approached Steve, her eyes unfocused. “It’s— just us. Like New York again.”

 

“It’s nothing like New York.” Thor boomed, his new axe dangling from his left hand. “Stark isn’t here. Nor is Barton.” He paused, and Natasha could see the cogs in his brain working. “Loki was under Thanos’s control when he attacked New York. He _wouldn’t_ do this. He would _never_ —,” The god’s breath got hitched in his throat.

 

No one had asked how Thor had arrived on Wakanda, too afraid of what the answer would be.

 

But one thing was for certain—

 

_Loki was dead._

 

He was as dead as the dust of the people who’d been hit with Thanos’s gauntlet spell.

 

Steve breathed harshly through his nose, his senses on fire. “This isn’t the end.”

 

“You have so much _hope_ ,” Rhodey whispered. “How can you have so much _hope_?” Everyone was losing faith as the seconds dwindled on, but Steve knew better, flashing back to 1939—

 

Bucky smiled, smacking Steve on his shoulder. Steve shuddered under his grasp, almost toppling over.

 

“You may be stupid,” Bucky began, staring at Steve’s heavily developing black eye from his most recent alley brawl. “But _I’m with you till the end of the line_ , pal.”

 

Steve looked at the Wakandan sky; the sun was just beginning to set.

 

“How can _I_ have so much hope?” Steve repeated Rhodey’s question, and everyone stared at him intently, praying that he would say something encouraging, praying that he knew how to go forward.

 

Steve clenched his jaw.

 

“We haven’t reached the end of the line yet.”


	2. Chapter 2

“Wow, brother. If you were actually here I might give you a hug—“ Thor threw the top of a decanter at Loki’s head. His brother was known for his magic, so it was no surprise when he appeared in his shimmer form.

 

Thor expected the object to fly straight through Loki’s body—

 

But his hand shot out quickly, catching the decanter top in his pale hand.

 

“I’m here.”

 

Thor had been king to his people for a mere hour, before Thanos invaded. He’d ripped the ship apart, pulling out the Asgardians like rag dolls in a dollhouse. The Hulk tried his best to fight, but nothing was working—

 

Thanos, even with _one stone_ , cut through Thor’s people like wheat.

 

And then he’d cut through Heimdall’s chest.

 

And cracked straight through Loki’s neck.

 

Thor hadn’t had time to mourn before he’d been thrown out into the deep vacuum of space.

 

“What’re all these burns on you, Thor?” Natasha chided, coming to sit with the god of thunder. Her hands traced some of his now scarring burns.

 

“I had to light a dying neutron star by hand,” He tapped his axe. “It was the only way to make this.” Natasha thought hard about Thor’s blunt reply. He had changed since the last time she saw him, and then changed _some more._

 

The king had nothing.

 

His people were gone, his mother, his father, his relationship with Jane, and now— his _brother._

 

_Valkyerie_ —

 

She’d perished along with the people she’d only just reunited with.

 

“Thor,” Nat began, trying to tread lightly. “What _happened_ to you? I mean, I heard things from Bruce, but—,”

 

Thor placed his hand on Natasha’s forearm.

 

“My dear, Black Widow. Now is not the time.” Nat coiled into herself at that, but Thor smiled at the ex-assassin. “Thank you, though. For trying to make some light in this dark situation.”

 

She looked forward then, swallowing.

 

“I like your new hair,” She let out, and Thor chuckled to himself.

 

“I like yours, also.”

 

Silence set in soon after that. It was as if no one knew what to say; nothing would make this situation better. Steve hadn’t stopped pacing since the dust had settled, and now the sun was fully setting over the horizon, the sky transforming into a sickening purple.

 

Steve didn’t stop, even when the Wakandan locusts began jumping, and the crickets filled the air with noise. The crunch of his feet sang alongside their noise; but not harmoniously.

 

_Sam and Bucky were gone._

 

His oldest friend, and his closest friend; and vice versa—

 

They were lying on the ground in heaps of ash, discarded bits of metal and shrapnel mixed within.

 

“Steve,” Thor uttered. Only the two godlike men remained, with everyone else having moved to the palace. Steve stopped pacing, and turned to his teammate. “I’m sorry about them. Your friends.”

 

Steve sighed, crossing his arms and taking a seat next to Thor.

 

“I’m sorry about your brother.”

 

Thor practically scoffed.

 

“That’s a lie. But I appreciate it all the same.” Steve couldn’t help but smile at that. Loki hadn’t been Steve’s biggest fan, nor the other way round, but he was Thor’s last remaining family—

 

And now the god was alone.

 

“This made New York look like a simple _argument_.” Steve hung his head low. “It made Washington DC look like a _scratch_. It turned Sokovia into a _hiccup_.”

 

“There was nothing any of us could have done to prepare for Thanos’s arrival, Captain.”

 

Thor was rational, he was calm and collected. And Steve admired that about him.

 

But this wasn’t something that sat rationally inside the Captain.

 

Because he was _angry_ , he was _raging_ — somewhere inside of him he still believed they could have _defeated_ him— if they’d only tried _harder_.

 

But it was true, nothing could have prepared them for this battle.

 

“And now it looks like there’s nothing we can do to fix it.”

 

-

 

Nebula and Tony— arguably the _weirdest_ duo in the galaxy.

 

But when they both had the same motives, the same spark, the same loss; they were practically unstoppable.

 

Gamora was gone. Peter was gone— they were both hurting.

 

But they wouldn’t stop. Not until Tony was back on Earth.

 

“On three— _three!_ ” Tony yelled, and the two of them struggled against a boulder that covered the entrance to the Guardian’s ship. It wouldn’t budge, no matter how hard they tried, and the two of them collapsed. Tony grabbed at his stab wound, but Nebula was more frustrated than tired.

 

“Screw this..” She muttered, and violently pulled off her metal arm. Tony grimaced.

 

“If you self destruct, I want you to know I won’t be proud to use your mechanics to fix my suit, but I’ll still do it.” Nebula scowled at the billionaire a little, fiddling with her arm circuits.

 

“That’s reasonable, I suppose.” She whispered. Tony raised his eyebrows.

 

“They _don’t_ have jokes in space, then.”

 

“We have jokes. We just don’t tend to use them when a situation _isn’t funny_.”

 

Tony hung his head low. Because in his mind he was seeing Peter’s body turning to metal and dust again. He’d been to space before, and the fact that he could dwell on the wormhole again told him that this situation beat it tenfold. Thanos almost killing him— watching the _kid die_ —

 

Tony held his breath to stop himself from having an immediate panic attack.

 

Nebula grunted suddenly, and thrust her metal arm beneath the boulder, pushing down to gain some momentum. The boulder rolled away without hesitation, and the daughter of Thanos simply reconnected her arm. Tony stared in awe at her; her blue and purple body circuited with wires and electronics; it was no wonder why she wanted her adoptive father dead.

 

He’d done this to her. He’d done it _all._

 

And she’d had to grow up next to her sister, who won all the battles, who was daddy’s favourite.

 

But still, here she was; hurting; in pain; mourning; for that dead sister.

 

Nebula waltzed onto Quill’s ship, and Tony followed her inside. The ship was remarkably undamaged, and as soon as Nebula started the engine, the ship started _blaring sirens._

 

Tony clamped down on his ears as Nebula worked to turn off the alarm—

 

“ _I can’t turn it off!_ ” She yelled, and Tony merely stared at her in confusion. The noise was penetrating his already ringing ears and hitting his brain like a knife on a cutting board. Nebula smashed every button she could, but nothing was stopping the incessant noise—

 

And then Tony saw it, a red button to his left. It was his last bet, so he smashed it down like it would save his life.

 

The blaring stopped, the ship returned to normal.

 

Their heads rattled like they’d both just been punched ten times over. _Again._

 

“I can still hear something,” Nebula complained, whacking her palms against her ears. But then she stopped, her mechanic eyes widening fully.

 

“Maybe we should—,”

 

“ _Shut up, Metal-man._ ” Tony frowned at her, trying his best to shrug off that half insult.

 

Through the bleak ringing in his ears, the words hit Tony’s ears.

 

“… from Wakanda. This is a call for Peter Quill, Gamora, Drax the Destroyer and Mantis. It’s Rocket calling from Wakanda. This is a call …” It was on a continuous loop. Nebula scanned the display desk until she found the communicator. She clicked the button—

 

A wavelength of Rocket’s voice bobbed up and down on screen.

 

She pressed down the reply button.

 

“Rodent? _Rodent_ —“ Tony grabbed the communicator from Nebula’s hands.

 

“This is Tony Stark. I’m on board Quill’s ship. We’re stranded on Titan, Thanos’s home planet. We don’t have the resources to find Earth’s coordinates to get home. Is anyone there?” Tony clicked off, and Rocket’s continuous messaged stopped playing.

 

The two of them waited breathlessly for a response.

 

Was this _it_? _Would they get out of here_?

 

Suddenly, the empty static dissipated.

 

“Mr. Stark— this is Okoye, the main guard to King T’Challa of Wakanda.” Tony’s heart dropped into his gut, and god forbid he actually had a smile upon his face.

 

“Okoye. It’s— _amazing_ to hear your voice, whoever you are.”

 

“Tony.” The voice of Bruce Banner filled Tony’s ears, and his eyes overflowed.

 

“Bruce. You’re _OK_. Fucking hell, _you’re OK_ —,”

 

“ _Write this down,_ Stark.” Bruce’s voice was serious but calm, he knew what needed to be done, and stopping Tony where he’d began was the best way to get it finished. Tony listened as Bruce read out the coordinates for Earth, more specifically Wakanda.

 

Nebula relayed them into the ship’s tracking system—

 

They’d set a course for Earth.

 

_They’d set a course for home._

 

“Coordinates imputed, Banner.” Tony said. Nebula took a seat in the captain’s chair.

 

“Tony.” Stark stopped.

 

Because unless he was mistaken, the voice of Steve Rogers was on the other end of the line.

 

“Tony? You there?”

 

There it was, that husky Brooklyn accent. Tony couldn’t comprehend what to say; Steve was alive; and his voice sounded exactly the same as it did three years ago.

 

“ _Steve_ — I’m fine— _we’re_ fine—,”

 

“ _All of you?_ ”

 

Tony had to swallow back his vomit. Nebula turned to face him, her eyes hit his. Tony could have sworn she was trying to reassure him.

 

“We’re— _I’m_ — on my way back.” Steve didn’t reply for a few seconds. Because it was obvious now.

 

Tony couldn’t say much more, he knew Rocket was listening in to the conversation. He knew what they were already thinking, considering they thought Tony himself was already dead.

 

“Good.” Steve replied finally. And Tony wanted to saying something, but his mouth was clamped shut, his tears were obscuring his vision.

 

Because he wasn’t just devastated, destroyed, broken;

 

He was _happy_. He was— _ecstatic._

 

_Steve was alive_.

 

And Tony heard him sigh down the communicator, he heard him clear his throat.

 

“ _Come home safe_ , Tony. For _gods sake,_ _come home safe_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had no idea people would actually read this. Writing an angst fic after a movie that depressed me, and like everyone, more than anything else is a bit stupid, don't you think? But you guys delivered and I'm, like, overwhelmed. 
> 
> I'm trying to keep this as canon as possible, or make it seem somewhat believable. 
> 
> But I also want things to be fixed between the remaining Avengers. I need it to be fixed. This is my therapy. I hope you guys are OK with that. 
> 
> Thank you for reading.


	3. Chapter 3

Tony hung up the communicator before saying anything. Cap always had a way with getting in the last line, a line that not even Tony could find words to reply to.

 

Nebula started Quill’s ship, and pretty soon the two of them were out of Titan’s atmosphere.

 

“Why do I get the feeling that, you two—,” Nebula flicked her eyes to Tony. “Have _issues_?”

 

Tony almost scoffed.

 

“Let’s just get back to Earth, Ne— _Na_ — what even _is_ your name?”

 

She scowled, the stars reflected in her large eyes.

 

“Ah, I see. When you can’t joke, you resort to anger. _Humans are so futile._ ”

 

“ _Asshole_. That was your name, I remember now.” Nebula’s laughter filled the ship; a sort of half cackle, half cough.

 

“You’re only hurting yourself in this situation. I’m part robot and even _I_ know that.”

 

Tony tried to calm himself down, because she was right. Of course she was right.

 

This wasn’t a time to fight, to argue, to insult. No matter how hard Tony’s repressed emotions made him want to punch the next face he saw, he wouldn’t do it.

 

That wouldn’t bring them all back.

 

_That wouldn’t bring the kid back._

 

“Part robot, and part what?” Tony questioned. Nebula’s face turned blank.

 

“Luphomoid.” She whispered. “Back on my home planet, before Thanos found me, everyone said I had my mother’s eyes.” Her fists tensed around the navigation controls. “Those eyes are gone now.” She straightened herself up, as if she’d gained a new lease of life. “That’s why I’m here. To kill the man who did this to me. To kill the man who _murdered_ my mother, my planet—,” she paused. “My sister.”

 

Tony took in her words thoughtfully. This was someone so incredibly damaged, so colossally shot down; yet she was still here, fighting for what was right.

 

“Peter,” without warning, words had started tumbling from Stark’s mouth. “He’s _sixteen_ years old. He wasn’t even supposed to get on that donut ship, I tried to—,” he had to stop, because his heart rate has increased tenfold. His body had started to feel fuzzy.

 

But he had to continue. He couldn’t hide from this.

 

“I _tried_ to stop him. But he—,” Tony smiled painfully. “ _He’s so resilient_ , god dammit.”

 

His whole body was shaking like a leaf, his limbs turning to jelly.

 

“Nebula.” She said, keeping her eyes forward. Tony looked up at her. “My name’s Nebula. After the Orion Nebula.”

 

Tony sighed deeply, letting everything go, finally. As soon as he was back on Earth, they’d sort this out. As soon as he was home, everything would be OK.

 

Pepper, Rhodey, Bruce— they were all fine. They hadn’t cascaded into dust, they hadn’t disappeared from the face of planet Earth.

 

_Steve was alive._

 

“Nice to meet you, Nebula.”

 

-

 

The silence that surrounded Steve was suffocating. Everyone knew that him and Tony hadn’t spoken for two years. Everyone knew what had happened in Berlin.

 

Yet Steve had taken the communicator out of Banner’s hands— _why?_

 

Because despite the fight, the Avengers destruction, the loss he was feeling.

 

_Tony Stark was still alive._

 

That was his next task; to get Stark back to Earth; alive and in one piece. Without him, they wouldn’t progress. Without him, they would get all those who turned to dust back.

 

“How long will it take them to get here?” Banner chided, his eyes flicking over to Rocket. The racoon didn’t even stir when he answered.

 

“Quill’s ship is fast. A day? If they split up the jumps, a few hours, maybe.”

 

Steve leaned sternly on Shuri’s word desk, his arms tensed, his jaw clenched. He was tired; he was exhausted. But his body wouldn’t give up. His brain hadn’t stopped firing him with thoughts for over a month, and it was obvious that sleeping hadn’t been his main priority.

 

The whole team, everyone that was left, they were physically and mentally drained. Steve could imagine that Tony felt exactly the same; but he also knew Stark; which meant he knew Tony was fighting against his own conscience that was no doubt saying he’d caused all this, that he’d personally lost the battle.

 

“The sorcerer, Strange, he was with Stark, right?” Steve mumbled.

 

“Thanos’s _deranged squid son_ took Strange to his ship. He’d vowed to protect the Time Stone with his life.” Bruce began, crossing him arms and looking out at the Wakandan horizon. “Tony went after him.”

 

“ _Only_ Tony?”

 

“No— Spider-man was there, too.”

 

Steve thought back to Berlin, and his first meeting with Tony’s newest recruit. Something about the masked mutant had felt odd— like he shouldn’t have been there— like Tony knew something that his team hadn’t about Spider-man from the very beginning.

 

It was obvious that, compared to the others, and way beyond Steve’s own age, Spider-man was on the young side.

 

“You got heart, kid. Where you from?” He’d squirmed underneath that airplane walkway, but he’d still held it up. Steve knew that, in terms of power, Spider-man was equal, if not superior, to Steve’s own strength. His reflexes, his timing, his own strength, it was immense.

 

But— _unrefined._

 

Almost like he was still discovering things about himself, still learning.

 

“Queens,” He blurted out, his arms not giving up yet. Steve had smiled; he knew that accent anywhere, it had to have been Queens.

 

“Brooklyn.”

 

Steve knew Tony, he knew he was responsible enough not to bring someone so young onto a battlefield.

 

But he also knew that Stark would have done _anything_ to get him to sign those damn accords.

 

I mean, how young could the kid _actually_ be? Not much less than Wanda, _surly_? She’d been twenty at the time.

 

“ _Captain_ —,” Okoye grabbed onto Steve’s bicep, her eyes following something from outside. Quill’s ship had just entered the atmosphere at colossal speeds; it looked almost out of control. “They’re going too fast. The barrier will disintegrate them unless they slow down—,”

 

Steve paced it back to the communicator. “ _Stark_. You _need_ to slow down—,”

 

“Yeah— _not gonna happen_. I can hardly _feel my face_ and Nebula blacked out during all the jumps. We’re coming in _hot._ ”

 

“ _Fuck_ ,” Steve muttered to himself. Banner gasped.

 

“They must have jumped all the way here. That’s over _a thousand jumps_ …” Rocket blabbed away to himself, clicking a few things on his tablet. Meanwhile, everyone else was visibly in _hell._

 

There had to be something— they could disable the barrier, surly?

 

“Okoye, the barrier—,”

 

“If we disable any more sections Wakanda will be as good as _dead._ ”

 

_Any more_ sections.

 

Because there was one that was still open. Only _one._

 

“Stark!” Steve yelled into the comms. “I’m sending you coordinates. If you don’t follow these directions you’re going to crash before you even hit the ground.” Stark didn’t reply immediately, but when he did, he said everything in one simple sentence—

 

“What my dad would have done to see this…”

 

The line went dead, and everyone stared with wide eyes as Quill’s ship zoomed closer, across the horizon.

 

Another mile, and it was life or death. Ten seconds more, and Tony would either emerge from the ship, or be found in the burning rubble.

 

Banner clamped his eyes shut, turning away from the window, his hearing the most sensitive it’d ever been.

 

And then he heard a crash, and the ground beneath his feet shook. His heart dropped—

 

He couldn’t, _wouldn’t_ , look.

 

“Shit—,” Steve boomed, before jumping through the already broken window. Quill’s ship came to a grinding halt on the Wakandan fields, the dirt and dry clay completely churned up.

 

The silhouette of two figures emerged from the crumbled door, one of them was slumped and slender, and the other—

 

Short and strong.

 

They’d _made it._

 

_They’d made it back._

 

Just before the sun fully set over the worst day in Earth’s history.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no clue how I'm going to finish this but hey, at least I'm writing.


	4. Chapter 4

Tony woke up with a start, his heart felt like it might combust right there in his chest. His head spun, filled with the memories of the nightmare that he’d just woken up from. Except, it wasn’t a nightmare anymore— 

 

_It was his reality._

 

Half of Earth’s population had just disintegrated into dust. His teammates, Dr. Strange—

 

_The kid._

 

It was difficult to have hope when half the world just collapsed into ash, dead on the floor of every sidewalk, office building and household. It was difficult to have hope when you were someone who had vowed to protect Earth, and everyone on it—

 

And had failed.

 

His suit was trashed; it was a miracle that everyone happened to be in Wakanda, where Tony had all the necessary means of rebuilding his suit to its full excellence. It was also a miracle that his stab wound was now nothing but a simple scar. His fingers traced the scar; it was bumpy, and felt like he’d simply been scratched. How a stab wound from _Thanos himself_ could be reduced to nothing but a red line on his skin—

 

That was his first sign that they could, _maybe_ , do this. They could _bring them back._

 

How? Tony had no clue whatsoever. And he was beating himself up over it.

 

“Seemless, isn’t it?” Okoye strolled into Shuri’s lab, where Tony lay on one of the many beds. She nodded towards his healed wound, and he nodded back, trying to clear his dry throat.

 

“I’m sorry,” Tony said, the words tumbling from his mouth. “This wasn’t supposed to happen.”

 

“Only you would put the fate of the entire universe on your shoulders, Tony.” There was that voice again, one that he hadn’t heard in person for over two years. And now the man was standing directly in front of him; a fully grown beard sat on his chin, his hair slicked back off his face; his arms were crossed casually, like they always were; and a small upturned smile sat on his face.

 

_Steve Rogers._

 

Okoye looked from Tony to Steve and back again, and put two and two together. They needed some time.

 

Tony stood up from the bed, dusting himself off, all the while his eyes didn’t leave Steve’s. Had it really been more than two years since Berlin? Since the Accords? Tony remembered the FedEx box like he’d received it yesterday, like he was holding it in his hands at this very moment, reading Steve’s clumsy handwriting, and taking out that shitty little flip phone for the first time once more.

 

The red blinking light of Thaddeus Ross on hold was getting ready to tell Tony that the Raft had just been broken into. By who, you ask? Steve. It was Steve. _Of course_ , it was Steve.

 

Tony remembered the end of that phone call, after his eyes had traced that letter over ten times. “This is _your_ mess, Stark!”

 

“Technically, it’s Rogers’ mess.”

 

He’d hung up right after, sitting back in his chair, contemplating going to the Raft just to see how Steve had done it— how he’d broken into the most _high security_ facility that the US had ever created, one that sat under the surface of the _fucking ocean_ , with over one hundred guards parading around each cell, each hallway, each surveillance room.

 

And Steve Rogers had broken into it like it was a _baby gate._

 

Despite feeling proud while he saw the new headlines, telling him that he’d got everyone out; Scott, Wanda, Clint, Sam; Tony still didn’t have the balls to pick up that damn flip phone. Even when that donut ship had descended on New York, something inside Tony still couldn’t face what had been haunting him for the past two years.

 

“The Avengers— we, uh, we broke up.” Bruce frowned at Tony, looking at him like an unsolvable math equation.

 

“ _Broke up?_ You mean— like a _boy band?_ ”

 

Even Bruce had thought Tony was insane not to disregard all the hard feelings, the soppy make up session, because Thanos’ fucked up children had just jumped down to the city, and were demanding the Time Stone.

 

“You’re doing— _that thing_ ,” Steve said, his eyes dropping to the floor. Tony perked up then, trying to act like his normal self.

 

“What _thing?_ I do many things.”

 

“The overthinking thing, the overanalysing thing, the thing where—,”

 

“Let’s play a game called, stop saying _‘thing’_ —,“

 

“You haven’t changed at all, have you?” Tony had to stop himself after those words had left Steve’s mouth. To himself, he’d changed. He was spending more time doing what he was supposed to be doing. He was engaged to Pepper, he’d created a subdivision within Stark Industries, designed specifically for the aftermath of casualties, designed to help people afterwards instead of just packing up shop and moving to the next catastrophe. Stark wouldn’t face anything like the Sokovia Accords again— over his _dead body_ would he go through something like that again. _“Same old Tony.”_

 

“And what, you think _you’ve_ changed?” Tony said, gesturing to Cap’s new look. “Growing out your beard and adopting the Draco Malfoy look doesn’t mean you’ve _changed_ , Rogers.”

 

Steve raised his eyebrows, letting out a short scoff. Even if Tony didn’t mean it, it was true that he resorted to insults occasionally. With Nebula, that’s what he’d done, with Ross, he’d done it too— and now with Steve.

 

“Can we just— take a rain check on this talk?” Tony added in, busying himself by looking at his broken suit components in the mirror.

 

“A _rain check?_ ” A proper scoff left Steve’s mouth then, his jaw clenching hard. “So, half the world is gone, you almost _died_ — _twice_ — and you want to rain check a talk that’s been more than _two years_ coming?”

 

Tony waited a beat.

 

_“Bingo.”_

 

Steve stared blankly at the billionaire.

 

“I don’t believe you.” Cap said, strolling towards Stark. “You’re doing that _other_ thing—,”

 

“I thought we agreed we weren’t saying ‘thing’ anymore?”

 

“Where you block out your emotions.”

 

Emotions. Fuck emotions. It was true that Tony tried a lot more than he let on not to get emotionally attached to many things. But he _always failed_ at the first hurdle. That was the problem with being human— it’s so easy to care. Tony used not to care; _at all_ ; he’d show up at the party four hours late and end up with some hunny in the back room, just to leave her without saying goodbye. He’d sign the autographs and smile for the cameras and such, but never care about who the people were, or what they did—

 

That all changed with Pepper, and then with the Avengers Initiative—

 

It changed with the kid.

 

Tony ripped off his nano-suit layer, placing it down on the bed. All the while, Steve waited with his army patience.

 

“Like father, like son. Maybe my dad would have been proud of me this time.”

 

“Same old _drama queen_.” Steve chuckled to himself, coming over to stand next to his ex-teammate. He hesitated at first, but eventually laid his hand down on Tony’s shoulder. Stark didn’t object. It was weird; the two of them being together again. This situation was like nothing they’d ever imagined, yet right now, Tony and Steve were together again, stuck in their own little bubble of protection.

 

It was true they’d never seen eye to eye— they _never_ would.

 

But not seeing eye to eye was different when they both wanted the same outcome for the universe; safety, security, _freedom_. Their large personalities, their constant fights over who was stronger; those never compared to some of the best times in the Avengers compound—

 

Where in the morning, Steve would go for his run, and when he got back, Tony would have already got him a glass of iced water.

 

Or how Steve, whenever he went back to Brooklyn to reminisce, would always pick up one of Tony’s favourite sandwiches from the deli shop on 246th Street.

 

And standing there, in Shuri’s lab, _broken but alive_ ; Tony knew that Steve was right about everything. Stark’s ego was fighting against him, telling him not to do it, but he didn’t let it win— in one swoop, Tony had wrapped his arms around Steve, the Captain reciprocating the embrace with all his strength.

 

“I missed you, Cap.” Tony stuttered out, just loud enough for Steve to hear.

 

“I missed you, too, Tony.” It didn’t feel forced, or odd, or weird, that they were hugging like this. It had been so long, the time had passed slower than either of them thought it would. Tony had been good up till this moment, but rising up his throat was his same old attitude.

 

“I’m sorry for offending your Malfoy hair, it actually really suits your oddly square face. The beard is great too— well groomed.” Steve pulled apart from the philanthropist, his face hitting Tony’s with an annoyed expression.

 

“You always ruin the moment,”

 

“Hey— I’m the comedic relief. But I’m also the star.”

 

“Of course, you are.” Steve smacked Tony’s back, the two of them smiling brightly. Tony left his suit skin in the lab, and the two of them started strolling out to go and see the others. “Who would I be?” Steve said, urging Tony on.

 

“You? You’re the pretty boy who just got dumped by his super-model girlfriend for being too boring.”

 

Steve waited a beat, then nodded.

 

“I can see that.”

 

And just like that, it was as if the two years had never happened.

 

Just like that, the hope of finding Thanos, the hope of getting everyone back again, hit Tony right in his stomach—

 

Because it wasn’t _just him_ anymore—

 

He had Steve back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I suck. After Infinity War I really thought I'd be able to expel all my emotions with writing, but evidently it only took three chapters for me to slow down. But I always knew I would come back to this baby. I'm really excited to keep writing it and I'm sorry I took so long to update!! I hope I made it up to you with these Steve and Tony feels. I love my dads.


	5. Chapter 5

“Back from the dead?” Tony’s eyes shot open at his voice, and then his face came into view.

 

“Rhodey,” the philanthropist stuttered out, his best friend’s smile piercing right through him. That’s when he practically sprinted forward, his arms embracing the war machine; hard. It was like coming home, truly. And even though Tony had only been away for a matter of hours, those hours had taken a toll on him—

 

On the  _ world. _

 

They pulled apart, hands still on each other’s shoulders, and Tony’s face couldn’t help but drop as he looked around at the sparse number of people that were present in Shuri’s lab.

 

“Who did we lose?” 

 

His voice was raw, and he had to swallow back his bile.

 

Steve crossed his arms. “Sam, Bucky, T’Challa—,”

 

“Groot.” Rocket said bluntly. Tony looked at the raccoon, his eyes in understanding.

 

“You’re with Quill, aren’t you?” All Rocket did was nod. Tony faltered, and decided against telling him the obvious. All of Rocket’s teammates were dead— 

 

Dust.

 

_ Gone. _

 

“Wanda and Vision.” Nat said, as a sad tension spread across the lab. 

 

Tony tried not to think about the rest of the world crumbling to ash. He tried not to think about how half of the entire planet was reduced to rubble. He tried not to think about Pepper, or Aunt May—

 

But that’s when the device started beeping in his pocket, and he tried not to have an anxiety attack when  _ her _ name popped up on screen—

 

_ “Where’s my nephew, Stark?” _

 

Aunt May. 

 

_ “Tony— where is he— he went to you, didn’t he? He was on a school trip and— he went with you— didn’t he?” _

 

Tony couldn’t breathe.

 

He couldn’t move.

 

He couldn’t speak. 

 

Every bone in his body was praying she’d hang up. Every limb attached to him was turning numb as he listened to May’s erratic breathing on the other end of the line.

 

She’d survived the snap. She’d  _ survived. _

 

The absence of words was simply making May panic more, her mind going into overdrive, her tears suddenly covering the phone that she held to her face; he could tell. He could tell she was crying, trying to divulge her sobs on the line; determined not to show her weakness.

 

After May had found out about Peter, she’d called Tony immediately. They’d talked for two hours; she’d begged him to keep her nephew safe; she yelled at him for getting Peter into all this in the first place—

 

Berlin.

 

Toomes.

 

And now, Thanos.

 

“Tony?” Steve’s voice cut through the phones static, May was still on the other end. He looked at Steve, his face blank, his eyes glassy. He couldn’t— wouldn’t— say it. Not to her; not to May. 

 

Steve sprung into action, and his fingers had crawled around Tony’s phone before Ironman could object. “Hello, this is Steve Rogers.”

 

Tony collapsed onto a lab desk, his knees buckling. His ears weren’t working properly, and his chest felt like it was about to explode. 

 

Steve left the room, the phone still clutched to his ear.

 

It was clear to everyone in that lab that Tony wasn’t merely Peter’s mentor— the billionaire had become  _ attached, _ tenfold. It also cemented who Spider-Man actually was in everyone’s eyes—

 

A kid.

 

_ He was a kid. _

 

“Stark,” Natasha said, her eyes glued to him. His eyes trickled over to hers, her realisation hitting him straight in the gut.

 

“I’m sorry—,”

 

“He was fifteen.” Steve strolled back into the room, the hung up phone clutched in his hand.  _ “Fifteen,  _ Tony.” 

 

“I’m—,” Tony couldn’t see anything in front of him, his vision had gone blurred. His arms had pins and needles. It was as if he were submerged in water, his senses all dialled down to zero. “He died in my arms.”

 

Steve dropped Stark’s phone down on one of the labs tables, his arms crossed over his chest by default. The captain wanted so badly to yell at him— Stark was smarter than this. He was smarter than to let a fifteen year old kid fight in Berlin. 

 

“His seventeenth birthday was next month.” Tony said, his eyes glued to the floor. 

 

Natasha and Steve stood side by side— Rhodes stood next to Tony, and Thor stood by the window. The lab was littered with others— Okoye, a few Wakandan warriors, Rocket, Bruce—

 

And they were all looking at Tony. They were all piercing their gazes straight through his already cracked armour. 

 

“I was foolish,” He began, and prayed that he wouldn’t overflow in front of this room of people. It wasn’t in his nature to—  _ feel. _ “The accords sparked something in me— I just—,” he paused, and Steve bobbed his head to the side.

 

“You didn’t want us to break apart even more than we already were.” Cap said, and Tony looked up at his square face, the answer plastered on his sunken cheeks. 

 

“He’s a good kid—  _ the best. _ The smartest— the bravest— he’s—,” 

 

Tony didn’t want to say  _ dead. _ But that was it— the kid was dead. 

 

“... still out there.” Okoye said slowly, her eyes reading over the long paragraphs of data that had been collected from Shuri’s tried and failed extraction of Vision’s mind stone. “Look,” She said, and got up the information for the rest of them to see.

 

The Mind Stone had divulged information regarding the other four infinity stones— including the most mysterious—

 

_ The Soul Stone. _

 

“When Thanos snapped his fingers, and everyone became ash—  _ they didn’t die… _ ” Bruce spoke slowly, his glasses cradled on the bridge of his nose.

 

“They were transported to another dimension?” Tony croaked, his eyes flicking over the information like his brand new Porsche. 

 

“A different pocket of reality,” Steve added.

 

Bruce strolled forward, flicking through the information faster, and picking out the keys bits of information. “The soul stone acts as— a  _ doorway _ — a  _ shelter.”  _

 

“You mean— they’re  _ inside _ the stone?” Rocket chimed in, and the look of hope of his face was enough to make Tony’s heart plummet to his small intestine. 

 

“Inside the stone…” Bruce muttered, before pulling off his glasses harshly and wiping them on the hem of his shirt. “If they’re inside the stone— that means the snap can be reversed.” 

 

“You mean—,” Tony gulped, shooting up from where he’d collapsed after hearing Aunt May’s voice— 

 

“We can get them back?” 

 

Bruce looked at Tony, his eyes genuine, eyes that Tony hadn’t seen for a long time; since Sokovia; since meeting at Strange’s. 

 

Bruce fiddled with the monitor, picking more pieces of vital information from the rest of the data that Shuri had collected before Thanos had arrived on Wakanda. Everyone waited with held breath, their brows furrowed, their foreheads littered with sweat—

 

Banner cleared his throat, picking out one more bit of information from the bundle— 

 

_ “... the occupants effected will be held in an alternate dimension, within the Soul Stone itself..”  _

 

“Yes,” Bruce muttered, closing his glasses and popping them back into his pocket. 

 

Tony’s breath hitched in his throat—

 

_ “We can get them back.”  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, I’m sorry for literally taking 12 years to update. I’ve been very very busy, but always was going to come back. So enjoy x


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for this taking so long!! I've started university and it's been incredibly hectic. but HURRAH, we finally finished this pic!! six months after I actually started writing it hahaha, oh well. 
> 
> thank you for reading this, and let me say you'll be seeing me around a lot more often again..

Tony held his breath, his fingers grasped on each handle of the soldering iron, his hands skilfully fusing back together his Nanotech Ironman skin. Everyone had been discussing their next move; the next plan—

 

But first—

 

They had to get to Thanos. 

 

They had to get to the gauntlet. 

 

Tony had no clue as to how it would work once they got that stupid golden glove, but he knew that without it no one would be coming back from wherever they’d disappeared to. 

 

A different realm—

 

Another dimension—

 

A pocket of space and reality—

 

It didn’t matter. They were all gone, as of now. They ceased to exist. Thanos said he was giving them a mercy— simply stealing their very thoughts and existence; a painless way to end; so the Earth could continue to prosper. 

 

But to Tony— to everyone— if those who’d fluttered into ash were somewhere in a different dimension that didn’t mean they didn’t exist; it didn’t mean they couldn’t think, feel; they were still alive. 

 

They were still alive and breathing.

 

The soldering iron sparked as he laid down the final row of mesh, and the suit let out a burst of energy as it became aware of its repair. 

 

“Yes, baby. That’s it,” Tony chided, smacking his lips together in a small triumph. Hopefully, the first triumph of many during this mission to get everyone back on Earth.

 

Steve had spoken to May, despite not knowing who she was at first.

 

“ _Where’s Tony— who’s—,_ ”

 

“Steve Rogers, ma’am. I’m Captain America.” 

 

May took a sharp intake of breath on the other side of the line, swallowing back her now even more rising anxiety. She was speaking to a war criminal— a wanted war criminal. 

 

One of the men who had fought against her nephew in Berlin, not that Steve knew she was Spider-man’s aunt—

 

Yet. 

 

“ _I see._ ” May almost whispered. 

 

“Tony is— ah—,”

 

“ _He couldn’t talk to me because he knows what he’s going to say would kill me,_ ” May spoke, focusing back on the job at hand; her nephew; her baby boy; he was gone—

 

He was dust. 

 

“ _My nephew, Peter Parker_.” May began, and Steve listened closely. “ _He’s Spider-man._ ” 

 

Steve’s eyes widened to the point of no return. Spider-man’s guardian was looking for him— his guardian, his parental figure. How old was this guy?

 

“He—,” Steve cleared his throat. “How _old_ is your nephew, Mrs Parker?” 

 

“ _Sixteen_.” 

 

Steve pieced it altogether in his mind; the kid was sixteen now, maybe almost seventeen depending on his birthday— but either way that meant—

 

He’d fought a _fifteen_ year old in Berlin. 

 

Tony had recruited a _fifteen_ year old.

 

“Sixteen.” Steve repeated, and heard May flinch on the other end of the line. It was obvious now that no one but Tony knew about Peter in the terms of the Avengers. Steve was silent for a few beats, his mind trying to find something to say to May on the other end of the line.

 

But this shouldn’t be his job. 

 

This shouldn’t be _anyone’s_ job-- 

 

Having to tell the guardian of a sixteen year old kid that he’d disintegrated into ash. 

 

Steve took in a sharp breath, his lungs rejecting the air. He knew she was crying, he could hear her trying not to uncover her sobs to him. And in that moment Steve vowed; they were going to visit her; no matter what; because he needed to see this exceptionally strong woman--

 

_A woman who’d lost everything._

 

“I’m sorry.” Steve whispered. That’s when May hung up the phone, static sound filling the Captain’s ears. He trudged back to the group, his face flushed and angry. Tony had recruited a fifteen year old to fight in Berlin. He’d taken a sixteen year old to space. 

 

And now he was ash.

 

\--

 

“ _ We can get them back. _ ” Tony’s eyes were the widest they’d ever been, and as he took in the shocked faces of his old teammates, he couldn’t stop himself from being hopeful. 

 

_ Which was dangerous.  _

 

Steve folded his arms. “Tony--,” 

 

“Don’t  _ Tony _ me, Rogers. You saw that data, too. You all did.”

 

“You can’t get your hopes up like this.”

 

“Says the man who single-handedly took down the leader of Hydra,” Steve scoffed. Tony looked towards Natasha. “The assassin turned hero, who’s dodged more immortal men than I can even count,” He looked to Thor. “The literal  _ God of fucking Thunder,”  _ Steve’s mouth curled into a smile as Tony turned to Bruce. “One of the greatest scientists in the universe that doubles up as a green killing machine-- well, sometimes,” 

 

Bruce let out a chuckle. The room was filled with giddy silence. Tony wandered over to Rhodey and smacked his hand down on his friend’s shoulder. “My best friend. One of the best men I’ve ever known, and best soldier’s the world will ever know.” Rhodey rolled his eyes at his old friend.

 

“Okoye-- a king’s guard.” Tony nodded at the female warrior, and she nodded back. Nebula kept her head to the floor and her jaw clenched. 

 

“Nebula, the closest person ever to kill that purple ball-sack of a titan-- and who had to suffer so many years living with him.” She kept her head to the floor, but her jaw wasn’t clenched anymore. 

 

Tony turned to the last; Rocket. “And-- a raccoon.” 

 

“ _ Fuck you _ , Stark,” Rocket let out, but he wasn’t mad, he was smiling. 

 

“If we just all happen to be here--  _ together _ \-- with all that we’ve done and achieved for the world,

 

“Then we can get them back,” Everyone glanced at one another, their eyes full of the same glow. 

 

“We  _ will _ get them back.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey! if you liked this fic please follow me on twitter @sparklybuck where I post a lot about my other ao3 fics. 
> 
> and if you liked this fic and want more marvel, check out my other marvel fics!  
> \- Stay in School, Kid  
> \- But I thought this shit only happened in comic books?  
> \- Retrace Your Steps  
> \- I wanted you to be better
> 
> thank you so much!!


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